


What's In A Name?

by star_named_andy



Series: Shakespeare Does a Funny Thing [15]
Category: The Hobbit (1977), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Barduil - Freeform, Depression, F/M, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Shakespeare, Rehabilitation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:56:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard finally meets Thranduil's father and Thranduil is on his way to recovery. After much research, Bard realizes how intense treatment will really be for his beloved, but still hangs onto his unshakable faith that Thranduil can still reach the happiness he deserves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's In A Name?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All of my supporters who inspire me to keep writing this series! Love you all!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+of+my+supporters+who+inspire+me+to+keep+writing+this+series%21+Love+you+all%21).



> Warnings in the tags for mentions of alcoholism, depression, anxiety, rehabilitation, and post traumatic stress disorder. Thank you to everyone who have given me support, compliments, and inspiration to keep producing new chapters for this series. It wouldn't be possible without you special people. :) Enjoy!
> 
> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content. I also make no claims to owning any of William Shakespeare's work.)

Meeting Oropher Oropherion face to face for the first time was terrifying, but it happened. Bard still felt as if he were drifting light on his feet when the encounter came, only having just woken with his head still on Thranduil’s lap moments before meeting the man. Thranduil still remained blissfully unconscious in his hospital bed and Bard left him with a long kiss on the forehead before deciding it was time for him to stretch his legs and let others do some visiting. He groggily wiped his palms across his face; he was hardly replenished by such a small nap after being emotionally and physically exhausted, but he had at least been relaxed enough to fall asleep at all, and it had been with Thranduil close to him which made it all the better. He breathed much easier knowing first hand that his beloved would be perfectly fine.

Now what dominated his train of thought was what his next move would be: would he be staying in California until Thranduil was released from the hospital? How long would that be? Days? Weeks? Would he stay at a hotel? If so, he’d have to track one down that was reasonably priced, since he would probably be staying there a while. He wasn’t at all acquainted with the area, so he’d just have to wing it as he went.

It took him a lot longer to take just a few steps down the hall, because when he looked up at the sound of fast feet approaching, he noticed he’d barely moved. He was very tired indeed, but that worry flitted away temporarily as he saw who was coming toward him. It was unmistakably Mr. Oropherion, Thranduil’s father, Oropher Oropherion; he could tell even though he had only caught a glimpse of the man earlier. The first thought that Bard had was that that was a lot of man in that suit; broad shoulders that looked pointed and elegant, but also like they would fit well on a football player’s body to take down anyone he collided with and legs that eluded to the man having more than just one teenage growth spurt. His jawline and cheekbones were so pronounced that they seemed to be pressing against that tight, flawless skin for release. If anyone ever punched Oropher (by some horrible mistake), Bard figured the man would remain absolutely stoic and unfazed while the attacker’s fist shattered. To top it all off, his expression was fiercely intimidating, even with the pink puffiness that excessive tears brought that resided beneath his eyes. He was a shocking sight to take in and Bard found that he couldn’t move – whether that was due to his lack of energy or how frightening this particular man striding toward him looked, he didn’t know.

He pinched his hand to force his eyelids up, feeling in his heart that Oropher was coming to address him or at least shoot him a searing glance, and he didn’t want to look like a zombie for whatever impending doom was about to come. If his brain was functioning properly, he would probably have a mind racing full of theories: does he blame me for what happened to Thranduil? Why would he, but does he? Is he going to resent me because of his stance on homosexuality? He may have said he was accepting of it, but he could secretly still harbor disapproval and cast it on the poor brunette. Luckily, Bard was too fatigued to consider any of those things.

His hunch had been right and Oropher promptly stopped directly in front of him with his hands clasped behind his back. Bard was staring very widely up at the man towering over him and holding a gaze that was unreadable. Bard didn’t have the concentration to figure out what Oropher’s thoughts or intentions were based on his appearance alone.

“Sir,” Bard said, worrying straight after if he had actually spoken or if he’d just imagined it in his delirium. Either way, his hand was out now, alone in the space between the two…how much time had passed? God, he didn’t even know. All of his willpower was based in keeping his eyes open.

“You’re Bard Bowman, then.” Oropher spoke in an alarmingly low voice that could flatten an army. It reminded Bard of Thranduil’s acting persona, but this was no character the man was wearing. His petrifying nature was very, _very_ real.

“I am, yes, that’s me.” Bard answered, feeling quite stupid afterward, like he was obviously nervous. He lowered his hand, taking the hint that Oropher had no intention of shaking it at all. “I’m sorry that we meet under these circumstance, Mr. Oropherion.”

“Yes, it’s all quite horrible. He suffered immensely from the pain before being out under anesthesia for surgery. The doctors said he cried and screamed, but most of all, he called out for you. I know he would not call for me, but he did not even call out for his mother who he admires more deeply than he does me. It was you and only you, even with his last conscious breath.” Oropher said.

It wasn’t so much his words that surprised Bard, but more so the manner in which they were delivered. He spoke very nonchalantly, as if Bard already knew all of this and it was a subject to be spoken about lightly.

“Oh? I didn’t know that.” Bard said, rocking a bit on his legs to keep himself alert.

“I’m glad to see you’re not a quivering coward. I’m sure you’ve only heard nasty things about me.”

“Even if that were true, I’m far too tired to quiver, sir. Thranduil told me your relationship wasn’t in a good place and that you don’t approve of his choice of partners, but that’s all. No insults, no bashing.” Bard confessed boldly and something in Oropher’s expression shifted then. It was as if he were taken aback by such a response.

“Things are going to change.” Oropher said with a nod of his head and keeping his eyes dead-locked with Bard’s. “So whatever you have heard, I would like you to hold off on your judgements. It was foolish of me to have such petty views that hurt my only child so deeply. I have not...handled things well…” he said, losing a bit of his composure and letting a severe sorrow flash over his head before tightening his jaw. “Now things need to change and they will. I see that not only in this near death experience and Thranduil’s other… _ailments_ , but in the fact that he called for you as well…you must really mean something to him.”

“That’s the greatest gift I could ever have in this world. You’ll find that it is too, I know it.” Bard said and gave Oropher’s arm a compassionate squeeze and a smile, leaving the man quite frozen, but then something broke through the eyes and his flat lips formed a miniscule smile.

“There is much in you other than kindness, but kindness perhaps most of all, young man.”

“If kindness means telling the truth, then that must be so. I know he loves you, Mr. Oropherion. Everyone will heal.”

“Wise and poetic. I see why now he is drawn to you…well then, Bard, it is a pleasure to have met you. It best remain as such.” Oropher said with a stern eye and offered his hand. Bard took it as firmly as possible and they shook.

There were no more exchanged between them then. There was nothing else that need be said, and Miluiel then flew into the scene, looking a little nervous, but as she noticed there was no strain in the air, she was blatantly relieved. She curled her arm around her husband’s and nodded toward the door. When Oropher’s gaze met hers, he melted just a little, allowing himself to shed his shell and become more vulnerable with her presence. It was almost sweet, but the man was still regal and distant from Bard, at least.  She stroked his arm with her fingers and he nodded to her in confirmation and then to Bard as a farewell. Bard nodded back and gave a bigger smile to Miluiel as she looked at him as they passed. Arm in arm, they quietly re-entered their son’s room and after a moment’s hesitation, Bard crept toward the doorway and peeked inside.

The two stood silently at the side of Thranduil’s bed, watching over him with a look Bard couldn’t quite identify with. He recognized it as something specific to parents and for a split moment, he wondered if he would ever experience what their eyes said they were feeling. Would he one day have children of his own to rear and worry over? What was it like to love your own child? Surely, it was much different than loving your mate. Could the two kinds of love even be compared?

Oropher kneeled at the bed’s side and Miluiel followed suit. The three of them together looked like a dream, and not one crafted solely out of sorrow. Grief was present, yes, but it was grief derived from a family’s everlasting love. Seeing the faint smiles overpowering the despair of Mr. and Mrs. Oropherion as they watched over their son, sound asleep and safe, emanated pure hope. Feeling such a powerful sensation second hand brought warmth to Bard’s chest and he smiled, knowing for certain that love really did flow through the Oropherion family, despite all that they had been through. Being the romantic optimist that he was, he was certain that love would get them all through.

Oropher stretched his arm and let his hand hover over Thranduil’s before pulling it away. Miluiel wrapped her fingers around his and said something quietly in his ear before kissing his hair. He took in a deep breath and ever so gently rested his hand on top of his son’s. Pieces of his cold façade came crumbling down, his face stuck in awe at their hands touching, even though Thranduil was not awake to recognize it.

“What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Oropher spoke and Bard blinked, surprised to hear Shakespeare’s poetry cozy and familiar in the man’s voice… _oh_.

A realization hit him then, but he didn’t have the time to process is fully as Oropher’s eyes deliberately flickered up onto Bard, making the brunette freeze with slight embarrassment as he was caught, the foreign gaze lingering on him. Oropher did not speak or make any gestures toward him. His eyes only stayed on him for a brief moment before he looked back at Thranduil and Bard relaxed. He was even more relieved as he saw Oropher’s smile remain. It was all beautiful and strange.

Bard stayed in California for three more days until Thranduil was released from the hospital and Brent stayed with him all the while in their modest hotel room. Bard rose earlier each morning and stayed at the hospital for as long as he was allowed. There were times when they were alone to talk, snuggle, watch television, and bounce passages of Hamlet back and forth (because of course Thranduil was still insisting that Bard had to audition in the fall). Bard would make runs out into the city to grab whatever non-hospital food his boyfriend wanted and only got lost a few times. They would squish in the bed together and glom it all while watching movies or talking about what their wedding would be like if they ever had one, what they would name their kids, and random philosophical things. It was mostly just them goofing off and making as mess while attempting to feed each other. The nurses all thought they were a hoot and oh so adorable.

There were also times when Bard, Miluiel, and Oropher all sat in the room with Thranduil, because there was rarely ever a moment where Bard was not in the room. Thranduil was notably quieter when Oropher was there, but they did exchange words occasionally, and that was a good start, in Bard’s opinion. The chatting was light and a lot of it revolved around plans the Oropherions were making for Thranduil’s rehab stay, which the youngest blonde didn’t like so much, but Bard made the hard blow of it all just a bit better. Thranduil as scared, that much was known, and Bard was going to try his hardest to take away as much of that fear as possible.

“This is a good thing, a _great_ thing. I’ll help you every step, no matter how smooth or bumpy.” He would say, bringing a coy, yet grateful blush to Thranduil’s still bruised cheeks. It earned the brunette a kiss and an “I love you” every time.

At the end of the three days, Thranduil was a lot livelier than he had been at the start, but it was still apparent that he was sore and tired and not at all eager to make the transition into rehab life, which was soon to come. It wasn’t easy for him to move around whatsoever and he would get flustered when his parents, Brent, and Bard would all offer to help him do this and that at the same time and bombard him, no matter what the task. Bard and Oropher were most guilty of this, and though Thranduil shot pointed glares at them for it, a smile always followed after.

Bard carried Thranduil’s bag and his stuffed elk to the front entrance where the two were left to wait alone after Oropher, Miluiel, and Brent gave their farewells to each other, and the Oropherions gave theirs to Bard. The parent’s split to retrieve their vehicles from the lot and bring them up to the entrance.

Bard guided Thranduil away from the doors so they would stay out of the way of anyone coming in or out and gestured for him to sit on an empty bench that resided there near the scraggly hedges lining the side walls of the building. Thranduil had his arm resting lazily around Bard’s waist, and so when he sat he pulled the brunette onto his lap, making Bard give a little surprised yelp in response.

“Whoa, be careful! I don’t want to hurt you!” Bard exclaimed and Thranduil just nuzzled his laughter into Bard’s neck.

“I’m not _so_ fragile. And besides, you’re on my good side. If anybody gives us any shit for sitting like this, I’ll have to sit out on the punching this time around, so you can take care of it.”

“I’m not punching anyone and neither are you. No. More. Punchies.” Bard said and tapped Thranduil on the nose with his fingertip and the blonde’s blue eyes widened.

“I didn’t mean _punchies_ for you! I meant punchies for other people!”

“I know that, but still. No punchies for anyone.”

“How’s your nose today?” he asked tenderly, staring at the faded purple spot on Bard’s face deeply.

“Oh, this old thing? Psh, good as new!” Bard lied with a wave of his hand and Thranduil’s doubtful eyes flickered up into his. Bard gave an uneasy laugh and shrugged. “Okay, not good as new, but it’s getting there. Don’t worry about it, Thran. I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re fine – everybody’s fine.”

“But Bard-”

“No.”

“But I-”

“Nope.”

“Hey, stop-”

“Nooope!”

“Stop!” Thranduil laughed and covered Bard’s mouth with his hand, muffling his chuckling. Before moving his hand away, he moved his face close enough so that when Bard’s mouth was free again, he could smother it back up again with a kiss.

Bard accepted it with laughter still bubbling in his chest that died down after he realized the severity of the kiss, and so he gave the intensity he was receiving back as the blonde rubbed his thigh gently. Oh, Thranduil smelled so good, just as good as Bard remembered when he first detected his natural scent. The scent was indescribable, ethereal, is was just…Thranduil. He was being pulled further and further away from the real world, becoming totally and completely enveloped in Thranduil’s passion. He wanted to give in and let them take each other right there, but there was a dim light glowing in the back of his conscience. The only thing that brought Bard away from their paradise was the fact that they were outside the front of a hospital poking at the back of his head (like being in a public place ever stopped Thranduil’s sexual antics before). He pulled away and smiled a bit at Thranduil’s longing sigh.

“I know, my love. I miss you as well.”

“Let’s run away, just for today before I’m locked up.”

“I don’t think you could run if you tried.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, no! I’m not encouraging it by any means!” Bard said hurriedly and Thranduil shrugged with half of a smile.

“You know me too well.”

“And that’s the way I like it.”

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you.” Thranduil whispered, his fingers brushing through Bard’s hair and his eyes glazing over with a veil of tears.

“This isn’t ‘goodbye’, my love, just ‘see you later’, like any other time we go our separate ways. I’ll see you as soon as I’m allowed, I promise.” Bard said and pressed a soft kiss into blonde’s temple.

“But I’m not going to be able to leave and come see you whenever I want. I won’t be able to leave at all.”

“It’s just for a little while, though, and the harder you try to cooperate while you’re there, the faster you will feel better. Just remember this is for your benefit, everyone else, too, but most importantly it’s for you. So make it worth your while. This could change everything, Thran, and for the better. I know you can do it.”

“As long as I have my cheerleader.” Thranduil said cracking a larger smile and their heads turned as a car pulled up. Thranduil gave Bard a look that confirmed it was Mr. and Mrs. Oropherion, so Bard rose and helped the blonde up and over to the car. Bard opened up one of the back doors and placed Thranduil’s belongings inside, but as he was about to leave the blonde’s infamous black back, Thranduil pulled gently on his arm. “Hang onto that. You have some rehearsing to do with that Hamlet book.”

They smiled at each other and then collided in a tight hug. Thranduil hugged as best as he could manage with one arm and then ducked, seizing a kiss from Bard’s lips as soon as the brunette started to pull himself away. All Bard could feel was that Thranduil absolutely did not want to leave him, because that would really mean that Thranduil was about to run head first into something that scared him, and that was rehab. Bard understood his fear; he would be plunging into something unknown that aimed to rip out his darkest secrets and pains and attack them with a degree of force. One’s demons are not an easy thing to face, whether one faces them willingly or not. When their lips parted, Thranduil clung to him, panic in his features.

“Bard…”

“I know. The dream of you being happy gives me strength. I hope it will give you strength too. Everything will be okay. I will see you very soon, and I love you, more than anything.”

“I love you.”

The moment Thranduil was out of his sight, Bard’s heart throbbed with fear, but he pressed his hand against his chest, as if that would steady it. He closed his eyes and nodded. He _knew_ things would be made right, and Bard could not be there to watch every second of it. He trusted that Thranduil _wanted_ to get better. He had to, to stay sane.

He returned home that day, finally, and a day later he was informed Thranduil had been admitted. It really was a fast transition and it would be hard for Thranduil to heal in so many ways at once, but his parents felt it was a life or death choice, that if Thranduil didn’t go right then, he would be in danger left with his own thoughts and the frustration that came with the pain of his injuries.

Thranduil couldn’t have his cellphone while inpatient; he only had a certain amount of phone calls he could make on the facility phone for patient use, so Miluiel said. She also said he had been analyzed by a therapist, and they wouldn’t permit Thranduil to have visitors for the first five days of treatment after the alcohol detoxification, which would be the first stage of treatment Thranduil would be undergoing. Bard was hoping that then at least they would make Thranduil make a few calls, because he knew hearing he couldn’t see anyone for five days if he wanted would upset him greatly. Bard would keep his fingers crossed and send all good vibes and thoughts to Thranduil he could in his head. He knew it may be a wasted effort, but he wished so hard for Thranduil to hear, that he did it anyway.

Bard went to the internet to seek out more answers about what, exactly, Thranduil would be enduring while in residential rehab. As he browsed through pages, things became more complicated. He bookmarked pages and printed some, flipping through them and highlighting things that grabbed his attention:

 

_*Treatments vary in length depending on the condition of the patient and its severity. There are 30 day, 90 day, and six month long programs; patients who participate in the extended programs have a highly decreased chance of relapse as opposed to the shorter term programs._

_*Expenses for treatment at a rehabilitation center differ depending on the patient’s type of program, the length of the program, services the facility provides (such as personal chefs and alternative therapies), and the location of the facility itself. Lower end facilities charge $7,000 per month, whereas high quality options charge $18,000-$120,000 per month._

_*There is no medication to “cure addiction”, but medications can be prescribed and administered to patients to assist with mental illnesses such as (but not limited to) anxiety and depression for these factors can sometimes lead to relapse._

_*Detoxification (also known as detox) is the first step in addiction treatment in which toxic substances like drugs and/or alcohol are cleansed out of the body. Detoxification can be stressful and uncomfortable and must be done with medical supervision. The length of the detoxification process is determined by the type, duration, frequency, and quantity of the abused substance._

_*After detoxification is finished, many patients experience a physical withdrawal. This is a vulnerable period for the patients and inpatient treatment reduces the risk of relapse immensely by keeping patients away from drugs and alcohol and teaching them new ways to achieve and uphold sobriety._

_*Residential treatment is highly recommended to get the patient away from familiar patterns of addiction that may be triggering and there is a guaranteed distance between patients and substance._

_*Facilities often welcome visits from friends and loved ones and strongly encouraged, but all visits must be approved by a patient's primary therapist. It is generally most beneficial for patients to have visitors in later stages of treatment when they have had the chance to progress away from their addiction._

_*Patients participating in residential treatment are not permitted to bring the items listed below:_

-        _Electronics; this includes laptops, cell phones, tablets, digital cameras and music players._

-        _Non-prescription medications._

-        _Non-recovery-related reading materials._

-        _Clothing with offensive sayings or references to drugs or alcohol._

-        _Products containing alcohol (mouthwash, hair gel, cough medicine)._

-        _Food items._

-        _Valuables._

-        _Electronic cigarettes or vaping apparatus or any liquid used for these devices._

_*Patients must bring items listed below:_

-        _Comfortable clothing according to how long the stay will be. Laundry services will be provided._

-        _Personal hygiene items._

-        _Prescription medications in original bottles._

-        _Identification and insurance cards._

_*During the early phases of the recovery process, focus on treatment is extremely important. Distractions, including outside calls to friends and family, can be a potential barrier to early recovery. For this reason we have a ‘no cellphone’ policy. Patient’s are allowed a certain amount of phone outcalls using the facility phone depending on their condition and all calls must be pre-approved by the patient’s primary therapist. Family members and loved ones can also leave messages for patients also._

_*Our staff includes highly trained psychiatrists, therapists, addictionoligists, nurses, and other specialty professionals (such as music and art therapists)._

_*Support from family, friends, and significant others is an essential part of addiction treatment and long-term recovery. We encourage said individuals to get involved in the patient’s healing. To do so and contribute to the healing process, loved ones can:_

-        _Become educated about the disease of addiction._

-        _Attend local Al-Anon 12-step support groups for friends and family of addicts or alcoholics._

-        _Follow the suggestions of the patient's primary therapist._

-        _Visit the patient when permitted._

_*After treatment at a rehabilitation facility, organizations such as Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and Narcotics Anonymous (NA) can play an important role in helping patients preserve sobriety by providing peer support at regular meetings. These meetings offer support through shared strength and hope experience from other recovering addicts._

 

By the time Bard sorted through it all, there was _so much_. Damn, everything was expensive and extensive, but rightfully so. Treating addiction, and in Thranduil’s case mental illness as well, was no light task. The methods were intricate, the professionals specialized, and there endless different types of alternative therapies that amazed Bard. He’d come across equine, dance, art, music, and adventure therapy, which all sounded interesting. There were even gender based groups, community based activities, and aftercare plans. He wondered what exact path Thranduil would be taking at the facility he was staying at, but no one probably knew yet at this point, since his path of recovery would be tailored to his needs after being fully evaluated by the professionals that would be working with him there. Doing so much research made him pray for Thranduil even harder, realizing now how heavy this would all be to take at once. As long as his faith stayed potent and unshaken, he hoped Thranduil would be the same.

After all of his research, Bard wasn’t just thinking about Thranduil, but himself as well. After all, he was studying humanities in college and this line of work could very well be something he was interested in doing. He smiled at the thought of being able to help people in Thranduil’s situation. In a way, it could help Thranduil too. What a fantastic idea, yes! Perhaps his focus would be for people who had substance dependency. He could be a therapist at a rehab facility or an AA leader; he could be many things, and the possibilities inspired him and fueled him with even more bright hope for the future.

“Have patience and endure…” he said to himself and his smile stretched even further as he remembered Thranduil’s bag of tricks was sitting by his bed.

He went straight to it and picked out every book inside, leaving the toys to sit there and collect dust until they were in the possession of their owner once more. He rolled his eyes, endeared by Thranduil’s strange habit of carrying such things with him in his car, with a collection of Shakespeare works on top, no less! With an armful of books, he plopped onto his bed, simply hugging them and smelling the scent of old pages and Thranduil as he fell into a nap.

“D’aaw, what a CUTIE!” a loud voice rose and Bard jolted, books jostling in his arms as he sprung up and awake.

“Wha-?”

For a moment he for some reason expected to see Thranduil standing in his doorway, but instead it was someone far littler that was now barreling toward him. Bard could barely see who it was, being so tired and confused that all he saw was a blur before a weight bounced onto his bed and the face became clear and his bleary eyes widened. Bilbo threw his arms around his dazed friend.

“I called and called so I could come cheer you up! I finally called your mom and she said you were asleep. I figured you would be up by the time I got here, but I guess not. Anyway, here I am, best friend reporting for duty!” Bilbo said and gave Bard a salute.

“But I didn’t summon you for duty.” Bard chuckled and Bilbo gave him a look that emitted just what he said next.

“Bard, true friendship is knowing when you have to show up without being told.”

“You’re a very good friend.” Bard yawned and rubbed his eye. Bilbo was quiet for a moment, watching as Bard made an “o” with his mouth, pat his hands on his hollow cheeks, and thus made a funny sound that sounded like a raindrop, trying to wake himself up a bit more by doing such an odd thing. The reason why he did it was unclear to even Bard, but he did it anyway, making different tones until Bilbo joined in and they made harmonies out of the noises. It stopped without either of them consenting with the other, and then Bilbo turned to Bard with a straight face.

“So, what do you want to do?”

True friendship indeed.

Bard wanted to blow off some steam, so he convinced Bilbo to go fishing. Bard took charge of packing up the gear, since Bilbo was fumbling through the shed and would probably end up breaking something somehow. He grabbed his own rod and borrowed Brent’s to use and he would let Bilbo use his own; in case something happened to it, Bard would prefer to replace his own rod rather than his da’s. His da’s rod was very special, dark green and plastered with withering stickers Bard had stuck there as a kid. The tackle box they all shared had the same exact decorations. Bilbo thought it was sweet and cute beyond belief.

They took Bard’s truck out to the river he had in mind, since the road there was bumpy and rocky and Bilbo only drove a tiny minicooper that wouldn’t handle the road as well as Bard’s four-wheel drive. The truck still jumped over the rocks and gravel a little; it didn’t bother Bard any and he laughed quietly to himself under the radio’s cover at Bilbo’s unpleasant reactions. He could be an awful sissy sometimes, but he was Bard’s best friend, so if he was a sissy (which he was), so be it.

When they arrived, Bard parked on the side of the road and carried everything himself to give his friend as easier time. Bard paused every now and then as he descended a small, yet steep slope down to the riverside to look back at Bilbo, who rotted very carefully behind, and make sure he was fairing alright. He had to lunge out to catch Bilbo from falling a few times, but Bilbo would just brush it off, saying “I’m alright, I’m alright!” and make a comment about how he wished he had sneakers and clothing that he wouldn’t mind dirtying. They made it to the bottom just fine with no wounds or major dirt stains and Bard brushed some sand off of a partially flat rock close to the water for Bilbo to sit on.

“It’s no rocking chair with cushions and all that, but this will do.” Bilbo said and Bard rolled his eyes amusedly.

“Sorry. Should have brought chairs.” He shrugged and plopped on the ground beside the rock. Bilbo watched him as he sorted through the tackle box. “You’ve fished before, right?”

“A few times. I think I can manage.”

“You sure?” Bard asked before handing off the fishing pole and Bilbo nodded with a smile.

“Absolutely! Now hand me one of those colorful things.”

“A bobber?”

“Yes, that.”

Bard laughed and handed Bilbo a bright green and round bobber to float on the water’s surface once the line was in the water and make it easier to see if there were any nibbles. After a long while of fiddling and Bilbo insisting he could attach the bobber on his own, he finally did and got an enthusiastic round of applause from Bard. Bilbo gave a small, joking bow and then stuck a fake worm on his hook. The first few times Bilbo cast the line, it didn’t get out very far, and Bard sunk his at a nice distance the first try. Only the sounds of breezes whistling, birds singing, and frogs croaking could be heard in the serene silence between them. They cast lines over and over again as time passed and no creatures came pulling on their hooks. The air was comfortable and the bugs were pleasantly infrequent. Bilbo was the first to speak after a long period of quietness.

“I don’t do this very often; I haven’t in a long time. It’s nice.”

“I’m glad.” Bard answered and moved closer to the waterline, kicking off his shoes and placing his feet into the water. At first it was chilling, but it was soothing overall, especially with the soft dirt beneath his feet. Bilbo stripped off his light sweater and laid it down to sit on next to Bard and do the same.

“Not a lot of bites.”

“Nah.”

“How are you?”

“Better than Thranduil, I’m sure.” Bard sighed.

“I asked _you_ are.”

“I’m fine.”

“…It’s okay to not be okay in this situations, you know.”

“I know. Things will get harder before we get where we want to be, but I have a lot of faith. Sure, things suck right now, but it’ll all be worth the wait. I’m fine. I worry about him, but I’m fine.”

“You’re the most optimistic person I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“I’ve heard that a couple times.” Bard admitted with a faint smile.

“Thorin still has nightmares and episodes about his grandfather’s murder.” Bilbo began, looking straight out across the water. Bard nodded knowingly, having heard about the tragic tale a few times before, but he listened keenly still. “He was so young. We were both just in junior high then. I remember when he told me what had happened, that he’d been there, seen it all…you know it will never go away, right? Thorin’s PTSD and Thranduil’s problems. Thranduil can get better like Thorin has, but the memories always follow. It will always be hard, Bard.”

“And there will always be love. As long as there is love, there is a way. I know I can’t be in his head all the time, but I’m going to try my damnedest to make sure the good times are good and that there are more of them than bad.”

“We’re two suckers in love, aren’t we?”

“Yep, but they would do the same for us.”

“I hope Thorin and I get married someday. Even if we didn’t, I just want to be together always.”

“You will be! You’ve been together practically your whole lives already.”

“And you’ll be my best man!”

“And you mine, for sure.”

“You’re going to marry Thranduil?”

“If he said yes, of course.”

“AHH! BARD, BARD, I GOT SOMETHING!” Bilbo shouted and Bard jumped to grab the pole being yanked away from Bilbo’s hands.

“Holy shit, yeah you do! Hang on, reel it on, come on!”

“I’VE NEVER CAUGHT ANYTHING BEFORE! THIS IS SO INTENSE!”

“Yes, just reel the thing in, would you?!”

“Right, right! I got it!”

Bilbo cranked the reel furiously and Bard held the rod along with him with a firm grip. They both ended up standing clumsily and dragging the line in. With one last pull, Bilbo excitedly thrust the line onto the shore and they both screamed as a giant, dinosaur looking turtle landed at their feet and hissed at them. It chomped at them angrily and was faster than Bard and Bilbo expected! It chased them all the way back up the steep slope in a rage until the boys reached the truck, jumped in with supplies in hand, and frightened laughter boomed from their heaving chests as they took off.

**Author's Note:**

> Not to worry; more Thranduil in the next chapter! :D


End file.
